


Still

by orphan_account



Category: Red Dead Redemption
Genre: Established Relationship, M/M, Mostly Fluff
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-11-24
Updated: 2018-11-25
Packaged: 2019-08-28 12:36:05
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,768
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/16723530
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Arthur’s traveled all over this great land and has seen all sorts of beautiful sights, but they pale in comparison to Charles, bare and relaxed, bathed in the soft light.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I have never written fanfic in my life but I just have a lot of feelings about Arthur and Charles and I’m so so thirsty. This was not beta read in any way and I’m posting this on my phone at 2am. Enjoy! Maybe!

“I can feel you staring” Charles hums from the chair he’s in by the open window.

Arthur watches him blow smoke out into the crisp night air and stub out his cigarette on the window sill. The low lamp light does something to Charles’ skin that he can’t quite put into words. His dark hair trails over his shoulder and there’s a looseness about him that Arthur wishes he could capture and keep forever.

Arthurs traveled all over this great land and has seen all sorts of beautiful sights, but they pale in comparison to Charles, bare and relaxed, bathed in the soft light.  

“Can’t blame me when you’re such a treat to look at Mr. Smith.” Arthur rumbles from where he’s reclined back on the bed.

Charles smirks as he stands and rolls his shoulders. “That so?”  Arthur smiles softly and hums an affirmative.

Charles chuckles and slides back under the blankets, places a kiss on Arthurs freckled shoulder. “You’re a sight yourself.”

“If you say so.” Arthur sighs, content.

He puts an arm around Charles as he settles back in close, skin to skin. Charles rests his head on his shoulder and lets out a tired sigh and Arthurs heart feels full to bursting. He twirls a lock of Charles hair between his fingers and watches the light dance across the walls.

It’s warm and comfortable, this time they’ve managed to steal for themselves. Four walls between them and the rest of the world, not to mention the shit back at camp Arthur can’t bring himself to care about right now.

“You’re quiet tonight.” Charles murmurs after a beat as he runs a hand down Arthurs side.

“Just tryin’ to get the feelin’ back in my legs, I think you might’a broke me.”

Charles huffs out a laugh and pinches the skin at Arthurs hip “Stop.”

He scratches absently at his neck, there’s a bruise there the shape of Charles’ mouth. It’s low enough to hide behind most of his shirt collars, but knowing it’ll be there makes him feel warm down to his bones.

“Arthur.” Charles tries again, soft, gentle.

“It’s just- shit Charles I ain’t never-“  He rubs a hand over his eyes. “I ain’t good at this- s’why I write so much down.. Hosea put me onto it when I was young.”

Charles pulls Arthurs hand away from his face and places a kiss on his palm, on his scarred knuckles. It’s quiet for awhile and Arthur thinks Charles might have drifted off until he feels him shift against him.

“It’s just me Arthur, it’s just us here.”

His heart skips a beat and he lets out a shaky breath. For Charles he’ll find the words. “It’s just- I ain’t never felt this way before Charles. I think I’ve been- been in love before. But it ain’t felt nothin’ like this. You make me feel more, want to be more. For the first time in a long time I feel like there could be more in this life for me than runnin’ and fightin’.”

Charles drops Arthurs hand and props himself up on an elbow, he cups Arthurs cheek. The look in his eyes has Arthur pinned, he couldn’t look away even if he wanted to.

“You are a good man.” He kisses his forehead. “You make me happy.” He breathes against his stubbled cheek. “I love you Arthur Morgan.”

He kisses Arthur then, slow and deep.

“Charles...Charles.” Arthur whispers against his lips like a prayer “Stay with me.”

“Always.”

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> All good things end.

"You said Hosea taught you to write?" Charles asks him from where he sits cross legged at the foot of the bed. Wakes before the sun that Charles Smith, even with the luxury of a soft pillow and a warm bed.

"Mhm, taught me t'read and write, gave me my first journal." Arthur's still half dozing in the low light, he watches through lidded eyes as Charles brushes out his hair.

Arthur clears his throat and tries to get around to waking fully. "I was a real angry young man, used to rage and holler somethin' awful at Dutch and Hosea both in the early days. Never knew how to 'express myself proper' s'what Hosea says. Dutch'd tell you I was just a stubborn fool." He scratches at the stubble on his chin, he needs a shave. "Though he still says that."

Charles is already fully dressed. What a madman.

He chuckles softly as he works his hair into a loose braid. "Can't imagine that going over too well for you."

"It did not" Arthur hums "still not sure why they didn't save themselves the trouble and toss me out on my ass."

He yawns and pulls himself to sit back against the headboard. "Don't remember anymore where we was when Hosea finally had enough. Sat me down and put a journal in front of me. I remember he looked me right in the eye and told me 'This cant go on any longer, I don't know what's goin' on in that thick head of yours but you're gonna sit here and write it out. You don't gotta show anybody but you're to sit here and get it done." Arthur smiles fondly at the memory of Hosea clapping him on the shoulder and telling him to join him for supper when he was done. They tried their best to do right by him.

"And that was kinda it I suppose, I poured myself into that little book best I could. I was tired of fightin' too. It's gone now of course, lost it somewhere a long time ago, but I kept up the habit." He leans over the edge of the bed and grabs his satchel, pulls out his journal and his pack of good smokes. "Lost my last one when we ran from Blackwater" he mumbles around a cigarette.

Charles has been watching him with keen eyes, he's always an attentive listener but even more so when Arthur shares stories from his past. Arthur gets the same way when Charles divulges something of his own, about his life before the gang, about his family long presumed dead.

"I can't imagine growing up with those two. They make my head spin as an adult, must have made for some interesting times." He accepts the cigarette Arthur offers and leans close for a light.

Arthur takes a long drag and huffs a laugh "You could say that."

Arthur grabs his journal and thumbs it open to a fresh page. He wants to make a quick sketch of the room, help commit the night to memory. Or at least the safe parts to paper. Charles reclines back beside him and takes a long pull, exhales slow and smooth towards the ceiling.  
Its quiet for a while, the only sounds their soft breathing and the faint scratch of his pencil against the page.

Neither of them have said it yet but they'll need to be moving on, not willing to shatter the bubble they've constructed for themselves in this little back water hotel room. Arthur snuffs out his cigarette in the ash tray on the bedside table. It’s been nice, he thinks, to pretend for just a little while that they've got nothing to think about but each other. He knows he'll miss the feeling of Charles pressed close behind him when he's back on his cot alone. These moments are rare and fleeting and if Arthur thinks on it too long it makes his chest ache. It's a new, strange feeling. To yearn for someone so strongly. Always around but just out of reach.

He watches Charles then, takes in his profile and the slow rise and fall of his broad chest. He wills his mind the keep this moment, safe and soft, a mental picture.

"Hey" he nudges Charles, pulling him from his own thoughts. "C'mere"

Charles reaches around him to stub out his spent smoke and slides in close. Arthur tucks away an errant lock of his hair and pulls him into a kiss. He doubts he'll ever tire of kissing Charles, of being kissed by Charles. Heat pools low in his belly at the soft sigh Charles lets out against his lips. He squashes down that train of thought, he knows they're out of time. Their brief respite coming to an end as sure as the sun rises.

Charles pulls back from him with a final peck, smooths a thumb over Arthurs cheek. "Time to go cowboy."

Arthur groans as Charles moves up and away from the comfort of the bed and starts putting their belonging together.

His back gives a satisfying pop as he stretches and moves to retrieve his trousers.  
"You sure we can't stay another night, _indulge_ ourselves a little longer?"

Charles steps into his boots and situates his belt. "As much as I want to _indulge_ some more with you, we can't. We probably shouldn't have taken this detour as is."

"I know, I know" Arthurs hums, doing up the button on his jeans. "But what a fine little detour it was, saw me some real lovely sights here." Charles laughs and tosses a clean shirt at his head.

"I can't keep you out much longer or your fathers will worry."

Arthur smiles as he pulls his shirt over his head, he doesn't have to see Charles to know that he has that silly grin on his face that he seems to save specifically for giving Arthur shit.

"Yeah yeah alright funny man."

Charles does one more sweep of the room, grabs Arthurs hat from the dresser and pushes it into his chest. Arthur curls his fingers around Charles' and pulls him close, steals another kiss.

"Gosh I'm sweet on you."

Charles places one last peck on his lips. "Careful, or you'll ruin that tough guy thing you've got going on."

"Don't pretend you ain't always seen through me Charles."

Charles crosses to the door and smiles over his shoulder. "Maybe. I'll meet you outside." Arthur watches him check that the coast is clear and make for the back exit.

Arthur breathes out a sigh as he watches him go, there's never enough time. He wonders if there's a future where they could lounge around in bed all day with nowhere to be. He grabs the rest of his things and takes one last look as he reaches the door. The unmade bed. The spent cigarettes in the ash tray. The fraying curtain fluttering in the breeze of the open window.

"Well, that's that."

He puts his hat on his head and shuts the door behind him.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I just really like soft charthur. Thanks for reading!


End file.
